Ron Weasley, Conspirator
by LoonyLuiny
Summary: COMPLETE. A short little two-shot of Ron being awesome. 8th-year. Post-war. Mostly a feel-good fic. Harry/Draco and Ron/Hermione.
1. Chapter 1

Part 1

"I don't think I can do this."  
Once, Ron Weasley would have argued. He would have reminded Harry of all the things he'd done that proved how strong and resilient he was, Hermione would have chimed in with some logical reason that it would all be just fine, and they both would have insisted they would be here to help Harry with everything, that he wouldn't be alone, that it would all be…  
But now, though he rested his hand on Harry's shoulder for a moment, he remained silent. Hermione, too, said nothing, but she took Harry's hand and gave it a squeeze.  
Ron had grown up in the last year, the horrible year of hunting horcruxes, losing and regaining his friends, and losing forever so many friends, classmates, and his own brother, Fred. He'd gained wisdom, pain, and the ability to know when to be silent, because every word had already been said, and saying them again sometimes hurt more than helped. He'd learned how to rest in the moment, feel the pain he was feeling, and simply be.  
They'd all grown up, they'd all experienced too much that they should never have had to experience, and now, as they stood toward the back of a crowd of students on the train station platform, the line of no-longer-horseless carriages in front, the horrified exclamations of the students in front, most of whom had never witnessed death before this last, horrible year, returning to Hogwarts seemed too daunting for words.  
At last, however, the students moved forward, hesitantly at first, the younger ones, and the rare few older ones, the ones who were lucky enough to only question what had everyone so upset, leading the way this time, getting into the carriages. Hagrid had already taken the first years away for that first, awe-inspiring and quite terrifying boat ride to the castle, and once the whispers spread, explaining the reason behind the sudden apparent apparition of horrific skeletal horses, with their black flesh hugging bone inspiring dread, the carriages filled, reluctantly. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were some of the last. Despite his words, Harry climbed up into the carriage and moved over to make room for his friends. There weren't all that many returning students, compared to previous years, they had no problem getting the carriage to themselves.  
Finally, Harry spoke again. "Malfoy came back. Did you see him?"  
"Yeah," Ron answered, the familiar rage kindled, and died, he couldn't seem to sustain it. "Wonder how he had the nerve."  
Harry shrugged, still looking out the window at the black night beyond. The castle came into view, all brilliantly lit, magical in every sense of the word. In the dark they could pretend there were no battle-blackened stones, to scars of the battle that had happened so very, very recently. Harry was right, thought Ron, it's too damn soon.  
They sat through the sorting, for the first time in years, and watched the so, so tiny first years, not as many of them as there should be, making their way to the stool, that familiar look of sheer terror on their faces, to be sorted. Every time a hat shouted out "Slytherin!" with an air of near-defiance, as though daring anyone to react negatively, the silence in the Great Hall was deafening, the pale-faced children scuttling to their table quickly, into the sheltering arms of their house, and away from all the watching eyes. Ron found to his surprise that he pitied them. The already infamous house would now be even further stigmatized. These kids were taking on a mantle of responsibility for so many things they had nothing to do with. The thought was strange to Ron. He found himself looking at the whole table in a new light. How many were actually guilty of something? How many were truly worthy of being reviled the way the whole house would no doubt be? He looked from face to face, noticing the down-cast eyes and stoic expressions, the grim set of their lips. Not Slytherin arrogance, no. He saw Draco Malfoy move over for a first year to take a seat beside him, saw his speaking to her, a slight smile of welcome on his face, and saw him give the girl a reassuring pat on the shoulder and draw others into the conversation. Making her feel welcome.  
He brought his attention back to his table, to his own first years, scared little things despite their warmer welcome. He grinned at a tentative boy and made way for him, patting him on the back and making introductions all around. The boy looked at him in awe, the words "war hero" practically hovering in the air between them. Ron turned to introduce Harry, only to find him staring at the Slytherin table as well, as if lost in thought. All the first years, and no few of the others, regarded him with awe, but Harry barely noticed. He wasn't trying to be the Saviour, or the Boy Who Lived. Or anything. He was just going through the motions. Ron brought the attention back to himself for the rest of the meal, drawing the questions away from Harry, sending them away to others who'd been there. "Ask Luna, she was there. She was brilliant!" "You should have seen Neville cut off that snake's head! It was like something out of a legend!" "Hermione, tell him how we…" and on and on. Ron didn't think Harry even noticed what he was doing. Not even when someone dared to ask Harry if it was true he'd really died, and Ron shot the kid a glare so fierce he almost fell off his seat, and directed the conversation elsewhere. But when they were getting ready for bed that night, Harry gave him a slight smile and said "Thanks Ron," before drawing his bed-curtains closed.

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A month had passed, with little change in Harry's solemn distance, or indeed the quiet, somber feeling among the older students, though the younger years lightened the mood of the castle with their laughter, games, and inability to hold onto the darker mood for long. They were, after all, children, and resilient. Ron longed to be able to forget so easily. Harry was no longer the only one to have nightmares, not the only one to place Silencing Charms on his bed-hangings every night to keep in the sounds of restless, interrupted sleep, or gut-wrenching sobs.  
The Slytherins had it just as bad as Ron had predicted. Mostly, it was nothing terrible, nothing truly dangerous, though there'd been a few hexes on the more extreme end that had resulted in hospital visits, and even one case of poisoning in Potions that most of the students knew was likely not accidental, though if they had actually meant for Tracy Davis to almost die was another matter, and she would be able to resume classes in another month or two, so nothing further was said on the matter. The culprit hadn't been caught. All of this did much to soften Ron's anger. He found himself watching, analyzing, studying, as if the whole of Hogwarts were a giant game of chess.  
He wanted to talk to Hermione about it. Get her analytical mind working on this problem. But even the fact that he was beginning to see it as a problem to be solved, something he felt should be solved, seemed somehow wrong, too revealing, too soon. He, Hermione and Harry only talked about homework, about day-to-day trivialities. They had talked through everything after the war, talked and talked and talked, and now they had an unspoken agreement to just forget everything for a while longer. To bring up the Slytherins would be to bring up everything, and Ron wasn't ready to do that either.

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Harry was watching, too. Ron hadn't been sure at first, but now he was. For the last month, Harry had been staring at the Slytherin table during every meal. More specifically, he'd been staring at Draco Malfoy. Hardly surprising, considering their history, but there was no animosity, just…watching, and occasionally something like puzzlement would cross Harry's face. And Draco would notice him watching and Harry would quickly look away.  
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Draco was watching Harry. Harry was spending less and less time staring at Draco, because every time he looked at the Slytherin table, Draco was watching him. Both pretended it wasn't happening, Ron saw Draco's eyes move on to scan the rest of the hall once Harry noticed his gaze, but it wasn't fooling anyone. Sometimes Ron caught Draco with a look almost like longing on his face, though for what, Ron didn't know. For that friendship Harry had denied in their first year? That was impossible now, after all that came before. Harry would never be able to forgive that much ugliness and pain, the insults about his parents, Draco's part in the war.  
And so they watched each other, and Ron watched them watching each other, and wished he could talk to Hermione.

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"I thought you and Hermione would be together now." Ron looked up at Harry, who was strangely attentive, his eyes really focused on Ron, and not with that hint of 'elsewhere' about them. The statement surprised Ron. Not only was it several months late in coming, and why now of all times? It was also much too close to referring to The War. Harry knew about Ron and Hermione's moment in the Chamber of Secrets, and Ron had told him about his hopes and dreams about their future together. But, they hadn't spoken of it, really. And it had just sort of…gotten left behind with the war and all the other things they'd been through. Because Hermione was nearly as distant as Harry and Ron, in some ways, still felt he'd lost his two best friends. Maybe things would never be the same because he'd left them once, abandoned them, and they'd grown closer, and maybe they didn't need him or want him any…no. Those were horcrux thoughts. He knew his friends loved him as much as he loved them. He even knew, KNEW, that Hermione was in love with him. But if it wasn't time, it wasn't time.  
He realized Harry was still staring at him, and shrugged. "I did, too. I guess we all just need more time."  
"Yeah…" Harry looked away, frowning in thought.  
"What about you and Ginny, I admit…I kinda thought the same. After…everything…you could be together now."  
Harry shrugged, still looking away. "I think that was all just a dream. I don't think it was ever really meant to be. I think I just wanted family, and Ginny…" He looked back at Ron, eyes widening when he apparently remembered he was talking to her brother, and stopped. "Sorry, Ron."  
"For what? Harry, you'll always be my best friend. You don't have to date my sister to be part of our family, either."  
"Thanks Ron. For understanding. Do you think…" he trailed off, his expression had gone distant again.  
After that, Ron watched Harry watching Malfoy, and Malfoy watching Harry, and he began to wonder, and he began to think.

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Part 2 will be up tomorrow! And the next chapter of "Harry Potter and the Mysterious Texting Partner" will also be up very soon, so keep an eye out for that as well!  
This is only a quick, 2-part fic. The product of a small idea I had about Ron Weasley, being the brilliant chess player he is, and how he may discover the ability to use that same skill with people! I had been reading too many fics that portrayed Ron as stupid and obnoxious and I needed something a little different!  
Cheers!  
Loony Luiny


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

"Excuse me," The three friends moved aside from the shelves they were blocking to make way for, of all people, Draco Malfoy. He nodded his thanks, took a book down from the shelf, and walked away.

"That was…unexpectedly polite?" Hermione said hesitantly. Neither Ron nor Harry made a comment on how it was only right after what he'd done, or that he'd finally learned his place, or any other nasty comment, though Ron certain thought a few of them. It was only habit.

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Ron watched the bent heads of his best friend and his best friends apparently former enemy as they bent over a cauldron together in the combined 7th and 8th year potions class. Dark, eternally messy hair, and near white-blonde hair, perfectly styled, a contrast. They barely spoke, going through the motions of creating their assigned potion in near silence. Ron was working with Neville, and Hermione with Ginny, but Ron was distracted enough at the proximity of the two without any explosions, shouts, or fistfights breaking out. It was bizarre. So was the way Harry jerked his hand away quickly when it accidently covered Draco's as they reached for the same ingredient, and the way he blushed red to his roots and looked down at his potions text with more focus than absolutely necessary.

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"Oh Harry, please don't tell me you're still obsessed with Malfoy!" Ron looked up from his schoolwork at Hermione's complaint. He'd obviously missed something.

"No! I'm not, I just-"

"Harry," Hermione's voice softened. "Put it behind you. He's not worth it. I really just think he's trying to get through the year, same as us. I don't think he plans to cause any trouble."

"No, that's not-" Harry ran his hands through his hair in frustration, making it stick out even worse than usual. "Never mind," he huffed and returned to his work. "Forget it."

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"Sorry, mate. I already agreed to work with Neville." Ron ignored Neville's surprised look, since this was news to Neville, and allowed himself a small smile when Harry huffed and moves several desks down to toss his bag onto the table where Draco Malfoy sat alone. Two more months of nothing but those looks was getting to Ron.

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"Sorry mate! I already agreed to work with Pansy." This was…much less credible, and her narrowing eyes and opening mouth gave Ron barely a moment to move her forcibly to his side at the desk, leaving an equally surprised Harry and Draco to find their own desk.

"What the hell are you doing?" Pansy whispered fiercely. Ron raised his eyebrows as if in surprise.

"Sorry? I must have remembered wrong. Anyway, do you want to slice the yarrow root or get the-"

"Why do you want to work with me?" She hissed, not so easily distracted.

"Honestly? To improve Slytherin-Gryffindor relations. Consider it an attempt to make things easier on the Slytherin firsties, by showing we don't hold a grudge." Ron partially lied, though now that he thought about it, that was actually a great idea.

"That's…strangely noble of you, even for a Gryffindor." Her eyes remained narrow. "Though if this is just some attempt to get into my pants, forget it." Ron rolled his eyes, and bent to his task.

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"What was all that about?" Harry had at least waited until they were alone before he asked. Hermione was watching him, too.

"Let's go to the library." He hedged. "There's something I've been thinking about, and it would be a lot easier with your help."

Once they were settled in the library, his friends turned to him.

"Alright. Spill."

"Well…it's like this. I've been…thinking…"

Hermione opened her mouth, then shut it. Ron could almost hear the unsaid sarcastic words, but he knew she wouldn't have meant them if she'd said them.

"I've been thinking about how the Slytherins are being treated this year." That got him matching sets of raised eyebrows. He rushed on. "Worse than other years! I mean, that whole thing with Tracy Davis. And some of the younger ones, it just doesn't seem right. It's like everyone is taking out all their anger on them, even the ones who had nothing to do with the war. It's not fair, and I don't think it's helping anyone move on."

"Okay, I agree." Harry said, his voice level. "What do you propose we do about it."

"Befriend the Slytherins. Nobody can accuse us of betraying our side, they wouldn't dare, so it might make things easier than if it was anyone else who tried it. We can use our reputation to help them."

"Oh so THAT'S what that stunt with Pansy Parkinson was about." There was an edge in Hermione's voice that gave Ron a small thrill of hope.

"Did you think it was something else?" He asked, innocently, though his mind was churning with yet another layer of planning. It wouldn't hurt to make Hermione just a little jealous…

"I think it's a good idea," Harry broke in. Hermione looked between the two of them, and then her face broke into a grin that Ron hadn't seen since…since before everything had gotten so damned serious all the time.

"I'm in," she said. She looked to Ron, "tell us what you have in mind."

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The school was buzzing. Blaise Zabini had been seen, in the library, studying with a MUGGLEBORN! Hermione Granger, no less! To be sure, most of the study session had been spent in a heated argument that had nearly gotten them kicked out of the library, but still! It was unheard of! When, the next day, the same thing had happened again, this time with the accompaniment of a small group of first, second, and third year Slytherin and Gryffindor students, the purpose of the study session became clear. Just why a Slytherin and Gryffindor had teamed up to create a study group for younger students instead of sticking to their own houses was entirely unclear, but everyone was watching with interest, speculation, and the expectation of it all descending into fiery chaos at any moment.

Ron Weasley may have been seen looking on from his own table in the library with an almost Slytherin-like smirk of satisfaction on his face, but if so, nobody commented.

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The world must be ending. No, truly. These must be the signs. The Granger-Zabini study group, which had now collected a few lower year students from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff houses as well, was all but forgotten in the newest cross-house alliance. Ron Weasley had been seen in the company of Pansy Parkinson, shepherding a group of mixed-house second years around Hogsmeade. They had certainly argued like an old married couple, and the whispers were flying. Ron's smirk was more of a grimace this time, but when Hermione Granger was seen to glare daggers at them both, he had looked just a bit more cheerful about it all. The rumours that Ron Weasley had thrown over his muggleborn girlfriend, though to be fair nobody knew if they were actually dated or not, it had just been assumed, for a pureblood witch, were flying!

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Ron was satisfied. To be sure, Hermione was barely speaking to him, and the entire school was basically in chaos, but Harry was now partnering with Draco Malfoy for every potions class without any need for Ron's maneuverings, while he and Hermione tried to also pair off with a rotating roster of barely-willing Slytherins. Nearly all of the older Slytherins knew about the Plan, now. Show inter-house unity, let the war heroes make things better for the younger years, leave the school so confused about it all that the hexes and cruel pranks stop. It was all working out just fine.

Harry, especially, was coming alive. He and Draco argued, but never actually fought, and they both blushed frequently, and avoided eye-contact, and where Ron may once have been horrified, he now looked on with nothing but a warm feeling of success.

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"A party." Pansy said, voice deadpan. "You want us to host a party."

"Yes!" Ron's enthusiasm wasn't dimmed by her reaction, nor the skeptical stares of the others. He, Harry, Hermione, as well as Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy, were having a meeting. "See, I was thinking of hosting it in the Gryffindor common room, but that's OUR ground, you all would be the interlopers. No, make us come to you. Only the sixth years and up, of course. Make sure everyone in your house knows they need to mingle and be friendly…" He thought about some of the Slytherins for a moment, "…ish."

"And you think people will actually come?" Malfoy sounded his normal, haughty self, eyebrows raised in ill-concealed skepticism.

"Of course they will!" Harry jumped in, eyes meeting Draco's. "I'll be distributing invitations. Who'll say no to a party if it's the Saviour inviting them?" His voice was heavy with sarcasm on the last part, and the challenge in his eyes would have once put Ron on the alert, waiting for some insult from Malfoy that would result in a duel between the two of them. Now, though, he only hid his smile, and wasn't surprised when Draco only snorted and looked away, a hint of colour in his cheeks.

"Alright, I'm in." Pansy sounded bored, but there was a gleam of excitement in her eyes. "Blaise, your usual contacts for the booze, then?"

They hammered out the details, assigning decorating duties, food, music, and, most importantly, booze.

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If it had been the end of the world before, now it was some weird alternate reality where nothing made sense anymore, and mostly everyone had given up trying to understand. Harry Potter was running around the school handing out invitations to a Slytherin party with every evidence of enthusiasm. He didn't seem to have been imperiused, and had the backing of his friends, and now everyone was simply too curious NOT to come, and see how this was all going to go down. Because, apparent chumminess of the Golden Trio with their Slytherin counterparts aside, this was a recipe for disaster!

The evening of the party dawned, and everyone was there! Even some of the lower years had tried to sneak in, or, in the case of the Slytherins, sneak out of the magical age-barriers imposed on their dorms, keeping them out of the common room. The common room was alive with colour, streamers in the house colours of all four houses twisted and twirled magically from the ceiling, balloons spelled to change colour, rotating through all four house colours, covered much of the floor, and hovered in the air. The lights pulsed in time with the party music, and people were dancing. Six well-satisfied figures stood on a small balcony and looked down over the wildness that had taken over Slytherin house with matching smiles of satisfaction.

"I have to hand it to you Gryffindors, Finnegan does have an ear for the right music to get people moving," Pansy commented. "I had doubted the choice, but I understand now."

"I had doubted the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes party favours," drawled Draco Malfoy, "And I still do, but people SEEM to be enjoying themselves." He surveyed the partiers, where two people, one a Slytherin and one a Hufflepuff, had just pulled on opposite ends of one of the WWW party favours to find themselves outfitted in matching cowboy costumes complete with six-shooters, enacting a duel. When the guns shot, they disappeared each others clothing, with the exception of the hats, boots, and very, very LOUD, ridiculous, western themed long underwear. They were surrounded by bursts of raucous laughter.

"A toast!" Said Harry, and the six conspirators lifted their glasses of spiked punch, and then tossed them back.

"I want to dance!" Pansy said, suddenly. She gave Ron a LOOK, her eyes sliding over to Harry and Draco, and he gave her a minute nod.

"I agree! We should enjoy the party we worked so hard on!" Together, Ron and Pansy hustled Hermione and Blaise away from Draco and Harry and onto the dance floor. There was an awkward moment of indecision before Pansy swung Ron away into the crown, and Hermione, face stiff, turned to Blaise.

"You really are being very cruel," Pansy half-shouted into Ron's ear to be heard over the noise.

"Haven't the faintest idea what you mean!" He shouted back.

"Torturing your girlfriend like that, making her jealous. It's very sneaky."

"Still haven't the faintest idea what you mean. It could all be part of a nefarious plot to get into your pants!" They both laughed uproariously.

"Still though, you DO plan to dance with her, right?" Pansy actually looked anxious. "Because if you leave it for too long you may actually convince her you don't love her."

"Yes, any minute now." Ron had been dancing them closer to where Hermione was half-heartedly dancing alongside Zabini. He looked rather bored, eyes searching the crowd, as if looking for someone. Ron spun Pansy into his arms, and Blaise lit up. Ron took Hermione into his own arms, and looked down into her eyes. "Dance with me, Hermione?"

She nodded.

He pulled her even closer, and his eyes rose to the balcony in search of Harry and Malfoy.

They were kissing. Well, making out, truly. Harry had Malfoy against the wall, their hands all over each other, Ron was sure there was tongue involved. Hermione noticed his distraction, and turned to follow his gaze. Her eyes lit.

"I knew it!"

Ron schooled his face into an expression of innocent surprise. "You did? I never saw that coming."

"Oh Ron!" She looked up at him fondly. "You are always so clueless!" And Hermione pulled his face down, and kissed him, with all the passion he had been waiting for.

And that's a wrap! TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! Leave me some nice, scathing reviews, please.

Cheers,

Loony Luiny


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